


She is Petra Venj

by Gallyrat



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 12:57:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5457290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallyrat/pseuds/Gallyrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is born on Amethyst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She is Petra Venj

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hokuto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hokuto/gifts).



She is born on _Amethyst_.

A thousand thousand years ago (or perhaps more, or perhaps less) it had left Earth, fleeing the Darkness that threatened to extinguish the Light of the Traveller. _Amethyst_ had been fast, so fast – but all that had meant was that it was furthest from the Light at the final moment. Now it drifts in an aimless circle at the edge of the Reef, home to the lowest of the low.

Her parents die before she can remember them, before she can remember her name. But a name is not needed to survive, not out where the Light barely touches. She is strong, and quick, and clever, and soon she not only survives, but thrives. She attracts others to her, and they take shelter in her strength.

So she calls herself Petra. The oldest word for Stone. She will be a rock for those around her. She will be the hope of _Amethyst_ incarnate.

But she is too strong, and quick, and clever to live the rest of her life on _Amethyst_. And so when she is not quite old enough she leaves, and journeys to the heart of the Reef, and prepares herself to sail amongst the stars. And she is strong, and quick, and clever, and her superiors take notice.

She graduates first in her class, a dozen records under her belt, and she is made a pilot, the third youngest in the history of the Awoken. She and her sisters cut through the stars and the void of space alike with fire and lightning, bringing the Fallen to their knees, impossibly fast and completely invincible.

Until they’re not.

A routine patrol on the edges of Reef, within sight of the derelict vessel she had once called her home, becomes a nightmare from which she cannot wake. She hears the cries of her sisters through the radio, sees the shattered remnants of their ships. She sees fire engulf _Amythest_ , a thousand voices screaming into the void and then she’s hit and falling falling falling out of control no escape hold steady I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry and crash.

She awakens. How much time has passed she cannot say but she can hear the ringing in her ears, taste the blood on her tongue, feel the cold dirt of Venus beneath her. More importantly she can see the Fallen approach, searching and scavenging, stripping the metal from the finest ships the Awoken navy has ever produced and using it for mundane repairs. She draws her sidearm and ignores the pain, firing into the coming night. Once, twice, three times she fires, four, five, six times she fires and more and more and more. The Fallen approach and die until she pulls the trigger and there is no response, and she lays down the useless piece of metal that was once a weapon and closes her eyes. She dreams of _Amethyst_ , and of her sisters, and of the Queen she has never met, and for a moment Petra is at peace with death.

And then there is fire. She opens her eyes and cannot believe them, so she closes them and opens them again. Still the same sight greets her – a man covered head to toe in armor painted white and orange, fur on his shoulders, one horn emerging proud from the side of his head. He holds a shotgun in his hands and laughs as the Fallen charge him, their ranks breaking again and again, a tidal wave against stone. Perhaps in the future the stone will break, wearied by the constant tide, but that is not today. Today the stone stands strong, and paints the cold dirt of Venus with the blood of those who would dare stand against him.

As he pulls her from the wreckage of her ship, she asks him why he wears only one horn. He laughs, and claps her on the shoulder, but does not answer.

She is the only survivor of the pilots that flew that night, and so she is taken before the Queen. Petra has long dreamed of this moment, and when it comes she finds herself frozen, unable to say the words she had spent hours agonizing over. Petra looks up into the face of her Queen and realizes she is not flesh and blood but a God, and not a false God that lies broken and silent above a dying world it once swore to protect but a God of old, radiant and mesmerizing and a thousand other words Petra does not know. She knows in that instant, when their eyes meet, blue on ice blue, that she would die a hundred times over, a thousand times, a million. She would die as many times as there are stars in the sky and more besides to protect this God who calls herself a queen. 

The Queen calls her Venj. The newest word for Retribution. She will be the vengeance of her sisters, of _Amethyst_. She will be the wrath of the Queen incarnate.

The Queen touches her cheek, and smiles at her, and calls her strong, and quick, and clever. And though Petra often thinks of all she has lost, she never cries, for when she feels the tears she remembers the touch and the smile and the words. She is made a Corsair, the youngest in the history of the Awoken.

Her fury finds purchase in defense, in support, and in glorious battle. She serves under Abra Zire, and learns much, so much. She strikes against the Wolves, again and again, until she finds herself face to face with Veliniks and emerges victorious, strong and proud. It is her pride that has sustained her. It is her pride that has made her strong.

It is her pride that destroys her.

She sees the guardians on the move, but she does not understand. She sees the guardians on the move, but she does not remember. A man with one horn had once pulled her from the jaws of death itself but all she knows, all she has ever known, is the ways of the Awoken. The Wolves are dug in, to advance would be suicide. For a precious moment she forgets that Guardians are not merely men and women. For a precious moment she forgets the power of a broken God.

The strike is vicious, instantaneous, all-encompassing. The Wolves are gone, reduced to nothing but ashes. The Guardians, and their ghosts, suffer the same fate. It is her greatest victory. It is her greatest defeat.

Exile. They dress it up in fancy words, in diplomatic arrangements and treaties, but Petra Venj is no fool. She is strong, and quick, and clever, and now she sits in meeting halls and apologizes for a mistake she made years ago, again and again. Every moment, every hour, every day, she apologizes, not just with her words but with her presence, and then she leaves her duties and boards the ship which is now her home and sits by her terminal, waiting, hoping, wishing, for the call that will allow her to return to the life that was wrenched from her by her own pride.

She has not seen the face of her Queen in years. Petra sits and stares into the void of space and finds she can barely hold back the tears, that the touch and the smile and the words are too faded in her memory to contain the tide of bitterness that has welled up in their absence. Sometimes the bitterness fills her with anger, and she rages throughout the cramped quarters, weaving vast and complex obscenities. Sometimes the bitterness fills her with despair, and she paces back and forth, praying to any God that will listen, broken or not, for just one more chance. Sometimes the bitterness leaves her and she is left empty, without the strength to summon even a shred of emotion, laying on her bed and staring at the flickering light on the ceiling wondering what it’s like to feel.

It is during one of these bouts of apathy that she sees an Awoken ship. It zooms by her window as she stares, eyes open but unseeing. It cuts through the stars and the void of space alike with fire and lightning and in that instant something stirs within her, something impossibly fast and completely invincible. She bolts to her feet and presses her cheek against the coolness of the window, straining to catch another glimpse of the ship, and watches as it vanishes into the darkness.

So she waits, staring out into the void of space, and for a moment it is like she can see the future stretching out through the stars that lie before her. And for a moment Petra Venj smiles, for she knows in the deepest, most primal part of her soul that one day she will return. One day, she will return, and see her Queen, and it will be all right. 


End file.
